


A Life Of Lies

by Runaway_Moon



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Attempts to change a person, Bad Boy AU, F/M, Memory driven promises, Promises, Unexpected Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-16 18:25:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4635621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runaway_Moon/pseuds/Runaway_Moon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would you have done? A teen could never fully recover from what he witnessed... With the sounds of multiple gunshots within a close distance, the uneasy, sickening sway of a galloping horse, and the soft, bitten back sobs of the one who raised you; the world seemed to come crashing down, striking away at any sensible and emotional response. It was then when he saw his father's fallen form within the arms of his heartbroken mother, that he had decided that nothing could nor ever be normal as it might have previously been promised. The law was to pay and face a new style of hell... only, who was that pretty blonde walking by? Plans may need to be withheld...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dedication To Fallacy

**Author's Note:**

> So, I see you decided to read this fair if not poorly written story, I am glad someone could be interested in a pairing that seems to have nothing written for them. Anyways, the inspiration comes from a work of fan art from DeviantArt (couldn't find it), where it showed this minor duo interacting with one another. Jack was trying his best to flirt with Bonnie, but she obviously wasn't having any of his schemes. So in short, this story is based on such a perspective. I do not mean to offend any fellow shippers and simply wanted to try something a little different. I hope you guys enjoy the storyline for this short little work.
> 
> PS.  
> I do not own the characters nor the game Red Dead Redemption, they belong and are credited to Rockstar Games and this story was simply a dedication to a game that I fully fell in love with. Seriously, this game is simply beautiful and great~!

**That day could never be forgotten.**

The sun was blazing down on all that lived within the Southern state. The soft buzz of flies echoed from the still warm and freshly skinned remains of a doe's corpse. A man was walking away from the crumpled up form, carrying forth a leather bag full of the sloppily done cuts of meat and the folded pelt of the creature in his clenched hands. Carelessly, he attached the items to the saddle before mounting up on the black piebald faced steed he rode. This man, a lone and slim figure shrouded within a dark duster coat, was far from harmless and like most others with a soured mind; felt his call for death in cold blood was well deserved after the incident.

Each puff of dust, arising from impact of hard hooves, brought on a satisfied feeling within his very soul. He was drawing closer to his longed for destination. The blurred surroundings graced the passing man on horseback, seemingly racing to the fair ranch. It didn't take that long before his sly grin grew, seeing the iconic light blue house, general store, and the makeshift jailhouse. This was it and he made sure to stir up attention, galloping through part of the ranch and trampled those that were too slow to escape. The uninvited visitor of MacFarlane's ranch was the renowned unruly Jack Marston, known for his endless slaughter of any and all law that crossed his path.

 Silence filled the heavy and lung burning air as a light breeze stirred. A few confused and surprised souls stood around the now stopped mount, peering at the soul with a sense of dislike and distrust. Jack tilted his cold, pulling down his black bandana, boring a twisted smirk. "Relax, all ya hags! I came to your defense." He snickered, listening closely for any sounds. With the distinct click of a loaded and readied gun, Mr. Marston turned swiftly, shooting down a sheriff with four quick fire shots. His only saving grace in this situation was his trusty Mauser pistol, loyal to spilling that crimson fluid; blood. The action was enough to cause outcry from those that lived for the ranch, to silence to marshals, and catch the little reason for why he came here's attention.

The slender framed women with a stern and cold gaze glanced over at the scene, seeing the bodies shot down and growing cold. With a shocked gasp, her surprise and shock quickly turned to anger. She headed over to the crowd and approached the man responsible for the men; now hardly breathing. "What in the hell do you think your doing, mister?!" Bonnie MacFarlane scoffed, preparing her lecture and lesson for this crook, of whom she was hardly intimidated by, let alone impressed. She had a frustrated and agitated look about her as she reached for the reigns of the criminal's horse.

"Whoa now, Missy. I just saved your life. The government dogs and anyone who follows those laws are sick in the head.... Natural born liars 'n crooks," Jack implied, just causing the tension to grow. "The name's Jack Marston, I suppose you're Bonnie MacFarlane." 

"Y-Yes...," Bonnie reluctantly answered, eye's showing intrigue towards this insane man's name. "I don't approve of you, or what you do... But, by chance, you're John's boy?" The outlaw simply stared for a swift moment, quiet as though running his options through his head. His hazel hues dimmed and seemed duller in portrayal of emotion.

"Why, yes I am. I came to see such a thing of beauty." The brunette man muttered, bluntly trying his best to woo the woman before him. He took off his hat, and giving a slight little bow. The ranch owner grumbled something under her breath, glaring at the man. "I never met a man quite as much of a scum as you are!" Bonnie refused to give in, despite the slight charm of this odd guy.

'What a shame... His father would never have wanted this. What is he trying to prove? Poor boy has himself all caught up in a fantasy,' Miss MacFarlane thought, lightly scratching her head as she thought of how to handle and deal with this situation in possibly the best way to do such. Her mind churned for a solution to save the son of the man she once and still longed to love.

"Alright, tell ya what... We'll get you to 'defend' the ranch, but you'll have to work with me. This includes wranglin' cows, gussying up the horses, and keeping me company during night watches." Bonnie felt revolted mentally as she murmured her plan, pretending to show interest. This would mean she would have to hold off on the engagement with her final suitor, at least... Until she saved John Martson's boy, to fix things to how she strongly felt they needed to be.

Jack nodded, grinning, "perfect. Maybe you might even be able to tell me about how my father was around here." For once, Bonnie's expression softened at the words, giving her own curt nod. "Sure, kid..."

 "So about that whole me and you as a team thing at night~-" "Don't make me hurt you."


	2. The Hopeless Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite those puffed up chests and eagerly spewed bluffs, sorrow can still encroach and stab upon one's worn and weary heart. There was simply no denying the bitterness that consumed him, the reason for such hate filled actions occurred.... The loss of everything he knew and loved; stripped away like the all comforting and concealing swaddles of flesh, making him feel bare, weak, and perhaps the most potent; Hopeless. However, he knows he no longer is alone for the time being.... But can he trust her? Maybe. Only time will tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys enjoy this semi short and sweet chapter. I really tried to find a way to add a bit more information on the backdrop of this Alternative Universe, as well as Jack's last shred of compassion; the very thing Bonnie sees as worth saving.

Within the chilled night, the only embracing sound was the soft chirps and songs of Crickets. The horses, wandering the corral, were all restless and aggressively kicked away at anything; including the ground itself. In the distance, the soft rustling of summer heated winds graced the plant life of the terrain around and provided shelter and or cover for all the varmints that wandered the grounds. The moon, itself, was well endowed, shining her silver rays through thin curtains weaved from fine gray clouds. All was as it should have been.... At least until a disruption awoke one guest sleeping somewhat peacefully on the Ranch.

There was a sharp, somewhat rough knock at the door, followed by another of a rougher means. Jack Marston, tiredly running his fingers through his messy dark locks, peered out into the darkness of night before spotting Bonnie at his door. "Huh? Well, well, miss MacFarlane, never thought I'd see such a perdy woman standin' thar this late," His warm, moist lips cracked apart to reveal a teasing sneer. "Pardon. 'Hate to mess up you and your... Dreams, but it seems you forgot our promises," the owner of the ranch muttered, cowering her gaze behind a hand as she noticed Jack was only in his jimmies/skimmies (?). Despite this, she didn't seemed all that embarrassed, although shocked to find such a discovery.

"Promises? Yeah, but starting tomorrow, right?" The son of the acclaimed John Marston asked, confused and left scratching his head a bit. "I reckon you think again. We're going on a night watch, just like your pa did, Mr. Marston. Now, get dressed and best saddle up quickly. Pests ain't gonna wait for some outlaw wannabe..." Bonnie seemed to tease back, knowing her status and worth to the man she hardly knew. She gave a small smirk, giving one final cat call, "Also, great nightwear, Marston."

 Side by side, the duo wandered around the ranch, keeping close by as they searched for any unwarranted and or suspicious activity. Jack seemed a bit on edge, mind wandering. He couldn't get her words out of his head, "-just like your pa did." He couldn't help but think back to the day his father took him out hunting.... The first time he had killed something. How he missed his father, just like he did his mother... Even that old coot who was good for nothin'.  

 

 

 

A steady source of quietness befell the duo as kept mostly to hinself. It was kind of peaceful, but in all the same way, concerting. Nothing but a glance, every now again was exchanged as the woman beside the cruel criminal simply built up the courage and will to discuss what truly interested her.  She gave a small sigh before trying to better examine the murderous son of a friend she once fell got. It must've been all too much for the young man to take at the time of his loss of all family members, she thought, from only what was heard and reported. The event had been placed in a sickly positive light as John had been by slayed by those who kept him at bay. He had only hope for comfort, to prove himself, regardless of moral standing. His hazy hazel (?) eyes widened at the light nudge of Miss MacFarlane's firm, but tender hand on his shoulder. A few crystal mimicking tears slipped down the left side of his cheek before he seemed to regain himself.

"I'm sorry what happened to ya. A boy doesn't deserve to see the things you've seen," she informed, spotting only the tinniest illumination from the now dried drops of anguish. Jack merely turned his head, grasp on the reigns tightening. "I ain't a boy no more!" He warned with a low, frustrated tone. With a click of his tongue and bold kick to his stallion's side, the criminal rode forward, starting his own search. He had felt the need to keep away from the woman who remained in connection to his sire's past and Bonnie lit a defensive wrath.

Within a quick second, the wanted man unsheathed his gun, aiming for a figure in the darkness. There before him, giving coarse snorts and nightmare inducing screams, was a feral hog; rather large in size. Blindly Jack found himself staring down the worse of the more burley of wildlife, having wandered a bit from the ranch's worn and white washed fences. Without much wait, he shot a few rounds out of one of his calibers. Its grunting and squeals filled the cold air as it ran towards the slow horse, tusks swaying viciously. Just as the beast obtained the final shot before it crumpled under its own weight, it managed to strike one of the sharp tusks into the horse's left hock, lodging deep within the tissue before being ripped out. Both animals seemed to fall within a fairly close amount of time.

Despite not dying, it seemed a few necessary muscles had been turned to sliced and diced mush and the small wound was already oozing that crimson fluid; the horse was undeniable crippled. Jack got up after crawling out from under the fallen steed, hobbling over for a closer look. "Damnit boy, why'd'ya have to get hit? Shit! Another good horse gone!" Jack sighed, covering his mouth as he tried to swallow back his disgust and sorrow. No warning had been given as he silenced the male obsidian horse, shooting it three times. Luckily for the criminal, Bonnie wasn't too far behind and approached the man cautiously. "I heard the gunshots, what happen?"

Her dazed eyes widened, loosing that iconic almond shape, upon coming to a realization. "I see you ran into some of the local wildlife.... That, Mr. Marston, is why you follow close ye hear." The woman sighed, letting her horse pause as she peered at the scene before her. She was surprised by his next response, despite how she should have seen such a reply coming from miles away. "So? I handled the damn situation. No boar gonna bullshit me, Mrs. MacFarlane...." A moment of sheer silence followed the two before Bonnie motioned her guest towards her, "well... I'd like to offer a crook like yourself a mighty fine ride.... After all, it appears your horse is stone cold."

Her pale lips are tugged at their edges, indicating a faintly playful call, a teasing for such a careless man. "Well, come on now. Let's head back... I will finish the round for tonight. You, though; you need some mighty rest to recover." The middle aged soul rolled her eyes, grinning with the return of a sharp glare from what some would consider a cold blooded killer. It honestly didn't take long for Jack to get up on the owner's horse, wearily reaching his arms around the female's waist, enjoying this one excuse for closeness. It reminded him of his mother, Abigail Marston. Poor woman never was a grand mother, but she did her best for someone recovering from her harsh upbringing. Jack sighed, watching the dulled lights of the ranch roll closer as they headed back. On this day, he made some ground, but had much to do...


End file.
